Welcome to the dictionary of The Mighty Boosh
by icey.summer02
Summary: This is the new fic that I promised in the last chapter of my other story. Each chapter consists of two oneshot/Drabbles one about Howard one about Vince, each based on a new word, two words per letter of the alphabet. Enjoy:J Some Howince some not so. Some happy, some sad, some thoughtful and some just plain mad. :P
1. Alone

**This is the new fic that I promised in the last chapter of my other story. (Don't worry I haven't given up! Just lacking any sort of inspiration.) It is a chapter consisting of two oneshot/Drabbles one about Howard one about Vince, each based on a new word, two words per letter of the alphabet. Enjoy. J**

**Note: I own nothing. All rights to their respective owners**

* * *

**_Alone:_**

_Howard:_

Howard has always considered himself largely alone. And then Vince came swanning in with all his madness, peculiarity, violent swinging personalities and well… Vinceness. And Howard loved it.

Howard doesn't think his heart will be able to cope if vince ever decides to leave. Howard understands that for Vince there are other people, other fashionista, mods, punks or whatever else is currently in trend in Camden. Howard understands that. But Howard also understands that despite all those other people the only one Vince will ever come back for is Howard. Howard understands, and so, when he is left alone at night while Vince is out partying Howard doesn't fret, worry or feel alone, because he knows Vince will always come back for him.

* * *

_Vince:_

Vince feels alone. He knows he shouldn't. He always has a flock, crowd following him. Some even want autographs. Vince goes along and, in all honesty, enjoys the attention. But then, sometimes he stops and realises, non of these people are friends. They are fickle, following the crowds of time, the current 'in things'. Non of these people truly understand. Non of these people truly care, not about him anyway. And when this dawns on Vince, like a sudden epiphany, he feels truly alone.

It's at times like this when his mind wanders back to Howard. Patient, kind, loving if a little freakish, Howard. Howard who will always be there for him, no matter what. Because Howard will always care.

* * *

_Thanks for reading. Reviews are so so so so so nice! I can't begin to say how happy it makes me to know people are actually reading! x_


	2. Autumn

**Sorry for the long wait... But it's here now...**

* * *

**Autumn:**

Everyone hates autumn and yet loves it at the same time. It means the drawing in of summer, golden glory days over, marked by the changing leaves, and the shortening of the nights. Soon the clocks would change, always signifying that the world had plunged into the long dark hours of winter. It would get colder and sometimes it will feel as if it has never got light, the new, weaker, sun hidden behind a curtain of roiling black clouds and sheets of rain that turns the ground to mush and forces all inhabitants indoors. But at the same time this is exiting and new, the changing. It is like a bridge, hints reminding one of the summer gone and also glimpses of the winter that lies ahead in the new found dark hours and crisp mornings, autumn glows in the oranges of the trees. Orange turning to the red of festiveness and happiness. Autumn is full of what is passed and what is to come, the bubbling warm feelings of christmas and the spaciousness and endless days of summer all visible in it, tinged with the knowledge that the summer days have passed but the winter days are, if only around the corner, not here yet.

To Howard Moon autumn means many things. It means long walks home in the dark with rain pounding into him, forcing him to recede further into himself. It means endless hours of TV when he would rather be getting on with something. And yet Howard moon rather likes autumn. It is his season. It rather reflects him in a nice way, the outside colours mirror those of his clothes and, often, his persona. In fact, if Howard Moon was a season he would defiantly be autumn, an odd collection of wistfulness of days gone by mixed with an almost warm side, soft and comforting but not quite as approachable as festive winter but not as harsh ether. Not as lively and full as summer but not as distant and uncomfortable as the stifling hot days ether. Howard Moon is autumn and autumn is a mix of emotions in perfect balance.

Vince Noir is the sunshine kid. To him Autumn feels stifling, like it is drawing all the sunshine out from in him. It marks the end of the summer and the summer sun. It marks the end of Vince. And yet if you asked Vince Noir if he dislikes Autumn he couldn't tell you. Because despite all this autumn brings with it it's own sunshine. Not the bright balance sun of summer but a cooler, soft sun. Orange not yellow. Autumn means a shopping spree for the new fashions. Autumn means a happy warm and friendly christmas is just around the corner. And when Vince Noir thinks of Autumn he thinks of Howard.

The summer sun would be nothing without the Autumn waiting around the corner to clean up the mess it has made. But the autumn would also be nothing without the summer sun to contrast it. The two seasons work together, contrasting but complementing and supporting each other in a perfect balance.

* * *

_Reviews please? xx_


	3. Battenberg Cake

**Battenberg cake:**

"But Howard, it's like someone made it specifically for me!"

"Whatever you say little man is never going to change my mind"

Vince huffs but still looks almost mournfully at the criss cross, multicoloured cake. Howard on the other hand is looking desperately toward the door, trying to send looks desperately toward Vince. Both men had shopping bags, far more than could ever be justified. Most were, admittedly, Vince's however Howard had managed to steal his way into a couple of Jazz shops, coming out with yet more records to add to his collection, including an original 1959 Miles Davis Record that he had been idolising for several weeks now.  
They had gone away for the weekend up north, to Yorkshire (Vince had wanted to head south from Dalston to Shoreditch but Howard had pleaded, eventually using a drug Naboo had given him to persuade him) and, although they had spent yesterday wandering around quaint little Villages and the mores, Vince had soon got bored and the only way to make him shut up was to promise him a shopping spree the next day. So here they were, in their third town of the day, being hustled about in a tiny bakery come sweet shop. Howard swears that it was Vince's choice but actually the variety of whole wheat, seeded breads on display was enough to make even the strongest willed person enter, let alone Howard.

"Please Howard?" Vince was still pining over a large, complex Battenberg cake construction.

"No. You've already got three hundred grams of sweets, a Danish pastry and I've got my bread – when it comes. We've spent far more than we can today and you don't need it. You'll be bounding off walls until Christmas as it is." Howard shifted uncomfortably from one foot to the other, turning his attention back to the counter where the customer in front of the one in front of the one in front of them was arguing about the price her son had paid for fudge.

"Howard? Howard? Howard?" Vince poked Howard a little harder with every repetition.

"No."

"Why?"

"Because I've said why."

"No you didn't."

"Yes I did."

"When."

"Just then."

"No you didn't"

"Yes I did. Look, it's nearly our turn to pay." And it was, there was only one customer in front of them now and she was ordering.

"Can I have a slice of the big yellow and pink cake please?" Vince's eyes windened – how dare someone ask for a bit of his cake

"Yeah, sure. Anything else?"

"No thanks."

"Ok, that's 8 euro's 60 then. Thanks."

Just as the woman was turning away she caught sight of the noice above the cake saying 'This cake may contain Nuts. Eat with caution.' She then turned to Vince and said,

"Hey, I can't eat this and I can't carry it home, do you want it?" Vince almost snatched the cake out of her hand

"Can I?"

"Yeah, here you go." She handed over the bag and walked out. All the while Howard watched with an odd expression on his face, something that contained traces of anoyence and dispare but also his face labled 'Typical Vince'. He sighed as he handed over his money at the counter, thinking about the added sugar induced hours Vince would gain from that piece of cake.

**AN: I imagine Vince as one of those Kids who can't even look at sugar or they will go mad for days... ;) teehee. :) Also, this was a bit weird but I wanted to write something a bit more happy seen as the last two were a bit depressing to say the least and I couldn't think of any words so this was one my sister gave me. **

**One the subject of the last two chapters, yes they are gone now however they ****_can be found in a separate story called 'Broken Beliefs.' _****_Also I have written another two_********_chapters on the end_**** if you are interested then go and have a look :) and I plan to write and epilogue. **

_Thanks :) Please leave a review._


	4. Bored

**Disclaimer: I don't own the boosh.**

**Warnings: A swear word toward the end and it gets a little slashy but nothing too bad...:0**

_Bored._

Vince was bored. Bored out of hell. Howard had gone out three hours ago to his Jazz exercise thing with Lester, and Vince was bored. He'd spent an nearly an hour on the phone with Leroy slagging off the latest hair braiding craze before he realised that the phone bill cost would mean the he couldn't afford the genuine alpaca wool jumper he'd seen in topshop and he'd quickly hung up. Having wandered around the flat for a bit he had settled on painting but he couldn't find anything to paint and he wasn't in the mood to sit and work at it so he'd walked away leaving it unfinished. Howard had mentioned something about tidying his side of the bedroom but having picked a few things up and stood looking around with them still in his hands he'd then put them back where they were because the prospect of actually having to sort through the piles of stuff scattered around his bed was just too daunting, Vince had gone back to padding around the house mournfully. The Cheekbone Ninja's were on strike over road accidents, far too many were being sued for running into the backs of cars, so there was no magazine to flick through. Vince had even thought about baking before he realised he didn't know how to use the oven. And now he was bored.

Howard always preached that you were never bored until you believed you were. That there was always something to occupy your mind until you thought about being bored and then, and only then, you would not be able to think about anything else and consequentially become bored. However, right now, he could not be doubting his words more. The actually Jazz exercise hadn't been too bad besides the point that they had had a new leader who completely messed up the be-bop warm up, but now, sat opposite Lester in the organic coffee shop he'd insisted they go too, Howard was bored out of his mind. Lester's voice had once again become a dull monotone in the background as he rambled on about the importance of anti hair loss cream, 'for men our age Howard, because healthy hair is key to a healthy lifestyle'. Coming out of anyone else's mouth Howard would have been certain that the last bit was directly quoted from Vince but out of Lester's mouth it was just a bit creepy. Even Lester's monotone would have been ok because Howard could have simply tuned out and thought about something else but every now and again his thought trail would be interrupted by Lester asking his opinion or him slapping Howard a little too hard as he wheezed at his own Joke. And because of this Howard was forced to pay a vague attention and consequentially he thought he might actually scream in a minute.

"Umm... Lester..." He coughed and dragged Lester back to the present "Yeah, umm Lester, much as this has been great I've just realised I've left Vince in charge or a casserole and he can't actually use the oven... So, er, I have to go..." The casserole may have been a slight improvisation but the rest was 100% true

"Course Howard, I understand your needs" Howard wasn't sure he understood Lester's meaning "I'll see you later at the Jazz club Howard, we'll continue this then to the sweet sounds of scat"

"Sure... Bye" Howard walked out before Lester had time to say anything else.

The sounds of the shop door opening Jolted Vince from his thoughts and Immediately he was bored again.

"Vince?" Vince glanced at the clock, nearly two hour's since Howard said he would be back.

"Yeah? I'm up here" Although truthfully he was half way down the stairs by now.

"Hey little man" Howard smiled when he saw Vince

"Hey Howard" Vince hid behind his hair, suddenly and unexplainably shy

"Vince, I-"

"Howard..." The two had quite without meaning too gravitated toward each other and now they were really very close

"Yeah?" Howard breathed, keeping as still as possible like he didn't want to scare Vince into moving

"I... I think I... Oh, fuck it!" He leant in and kissed Howard. Hard. Howard froze before responding, teeth clicking together as they grabbed feverishly, running hands over whatever part of each other's body they could get too. Vince shoved Howard into the wall

"What..." Kiss "Did... you... do...today" Howard managed between kisses. Vince drew back slightly, panting and looked at him incredulously before answering, leaning in so Howard could feel his cool breath on his ear

"Chatted to Leroy, got bored and thought about you. Or rather what I want to do to you."

"Oh, really, and what is that?" Vince pulled further in, arms coiled around Howard's shoulders, Howard's arms around his waist, all tension gone. Vince wispers in his ear, low and seductive. Howard splutters and then giggles in a rather unmanly way. Vince pulled away to look at him and smiles,

"What about you?"

"Oh, the same" He smiles and closes the distance between his and Vince's lips again.

*** -Later that evening –

"Why did we stop doing this?"

"Not sure. Let's not let it stop again though."

"Umm..." Vince leans into Howard as he kisses him, slowly.

"You know, I was meant to be meeting Lester tonight..."

"What again?"

"Yeah, He's as bad as you when it comes to hair talk- even two hours in the coffee shop wasn't long enough for him to convince me never to wash mine ever again."

"You don't mind listening to me though" Vince chuckled, imagining Lester preaching Howard about hair

"Hey!"

"What it's true!"

"Still..."

"Still what?"

"Still nothing."

"Exactly."

"What are we talking about?"

"No clue."

**Ok, not sure where that ending came from... It was going to be a fairly short fic... :/ Anyways... yeah... hum... **

**Reviews?! **


	5. Christmas Morning

**Christmas Morning. - Probably very early.  
Warning: One swear word at the end. :O**

****"Howard!"

Nothing.

"Howard!"

Still nothing.

"Howard!"

Nothing. Howard was artfully ignoring the scruffy haired, skeleton onesie clad electro poof with a skill that had been acquired over several years of practice.

"HOWARD!"

He contemplates turning over, but that would mean Vince has won. He stays still, facing the wall side of the bed.

"Howard?"

Better. But not perfect.

"Howard?" Barely a whisper, one hand on his shoulder gently resting. Much better. Yet still he doesn't move.

Nothing. The hand is released and the body moves away. Count the steps; One, two, the next he will be out the door.

"Vince?" Howard murmurs, finally moving.

"Umm?"

"It's Christmas!" Still whispered but with excitment only normally found in a child. The type Howard reserves only for occasions like this.

"Fuck off." Unbelieving but smiling as he reaches for his cold mug and moves out the door.

Howard wins. Again.

**Happy Christmas! Hope you had a good one! :)**

**Basically make of this what you will but it made sense in my head. **

**Also the next chapter will have three parts to make up for there only being one in this part.**

_Thanks for reading! Please leave a review!? x_


	6. Christmas Songs

**Christmas Songs: (Technically it's a different set of words to the last chapter!)**

**Warnings: Mild Hatred/Annoyance toward Christmas Songs. Oh and a ridiculous version of 'the 12 days of Christmas'.**

**AN: I know it's a bit late but I haven't had any internet. Also the 12 days of Christmas is posted as a separate story as well... BTW I don't actually hate Christmas or the songs... I swear!:) **

**Vince's Running commentary to a Christmas song:**

_Snow is falling  
All around me_

Seriously? I live in Dalston. It NEVER gets below 3 degrees. Snow is most definitely not falling. I think you'll find that's cigarette ash.

_Children playing  
Having fun_

Gunna be honest, it's not just Children – who thought of inventing elephants that blow butterflies out of their trunks? Butterflies? Elephant? Trunk? Genius! ... No? Oh, well it did say 3-6 years on the box...

_Tis the season of  
love and understanding_

"BOB FOSSIL PUT THAT CRICKET BAT DOWN RIGHT NOW! Jesus, what did the Christmas lights ever do to you?"

_Merry Christmas everyone_

Not much else to add to that really... HAPPY CHRISTMAS!

**Howard's running commentary to a different Christmas song:**

_Oh the weather outside is frightful_

No joking! It's been raining four days solid

_But the fire is so delightful_

Umm... We have no fire... Or at least not an intentional one... "SOMEONE GET LESTER AWAY FROM THE HAIR STRAIGHTENERS!"

_And since we've no place to go_

Nope. Vince won't go out for fear of hair running weather and I've not been invited anywhere so we're stuck here with Naboo and the rabble. And by that I mean the entire Shaman council plus extras. Believe me when I say I am not sitting next to Denis again. All he does is moan about how awful it is to be married to an extreme sports calendar model. Oh poor him!...  
Huhummm... anyway... On with the son_g..._

_Let it snow, let it snow, let it snow!_

I doubt it will, I believe Vince has already explained the issue with snow and London? London= No snow. End of. But it would be nice though, after all what's Christmas without a bit of white stuff (and if you EVER take that out of context I'll be forced to put a move on you like a northern bullet!)  
Actually if it does snow perhaps everyone will be snowed in and I can have a semi-decent Christmas. Right, off to pray for a miracle!

**Howard and Vince's version of 'The 12 days of Christmas'****  
Note: The 5 gold rings bit needs to come on the fourth day and also the twelfth day (version 1) or else it won't work...**

#On the first day of Christmas Old greg gave to me  
The funk in a creepy old box

#On the second day of Christmas Bob Fossil gave to me  
Two electro Goth girls_  
And the funk in a creepy old box_

#On the third day of Christmas Nanatoo gave to me  
Three lethal knitting needles_  
Two electro Goth girls  
And the funk in a creepy old box_

#On the fourth day of Christmas Lance Dior gave to me  
(A) four way Crimp_  
Three lethal knitting needles  
Two electro Goth girls  
And the funk in a creepy old box_

#On the fifth day of Christmas Tony Harrison gave to me  
Five reviling outfits_  
(A) Four way crimp  
Three lethal knitting needles  
Two electro Goth girls  
And the funk in a creepy old box_

#On the sixth day of Christmas The Hitcher gave to me  
Six close encounters_  
Five reviling outfits  
(A) Four way crimp  
Three lethal knitting needles  
Two electro Goth girls  
And the funk in a creepy old box_

#On the seventh day of Christmas Dixon Bainbridge gave to me  
Seven cappuccino stains_  
Six close encounters  
Five reviling outfits  
(A) Four way crimp  
Three lethal knitting needles  
Two electro Goth girls  
And the funk in a creepy old box_

#On the eighth day of Christmas Spider Dion gave to me  
Eight new sounds_  
Seven cappuccino stains  
Six close encounters  
Five reviling outfits  
(A) Four way crimp  
Three lethal knitting needles  
Two electro Goth girls  
And the funk in a creepy old box_

#On the ninth day of Christmas Naboo and Bollo gave to me  
Nine magic carpets_  
Eight new sounds  
Seven cappuccino stains  
Six close encounters  
Five reviling outfits  
(A) Four way crimp  
Three lethal knitting needles  
Two electro Goth girls  
And the funk in a creepy old box_

#On the tenth day of Christmas Howard moon gave to me  
Ten elusive Jazz records_  
Nine magic Carpets  
Eight new sounds  
Seven cappuccino stains  
Six close encounters  
Five reviling outfits  
(A) Four way crimp  
Three lethal knitting needles  
Two electro Goth girls  
And the funk in a creepy old box_

#On the eleventh day of Christmas Vince Noir gave to me  
Eleven different Hair styles_  
Ten elusive Jazz records  
Nine magic Carpets  
Eight new sounds  
Seven cappuccino stains  
Six close encounters  
Five reviling outfits  
(A) Four way crimp  
Three lethal knitting needles  
Two electro Goth girls  
And the funk in a creepy old box_

#On the twelfth day of Christmas the Zooniverse gave to me*  
A very merry Christmas  
_Eleven different Hairstyles  
Ten elusive Jazz records  
Nine magic Carpets  
Eight new sounds  
Seven cappuccino stains  
Six close encounters  
Five reviling outfits  
(A) Four way crimp  
Three lethal knitting needles  
Two electro Goth girls  
And the funk in a creepy old box_

**Phew, that took some doing!:) **

* Alternative twelfth verse:  
On the twelfth day of Christmas Fanfiction gave to me  
Twelve obsessive fan girls  
_Eleven different Hairstyles  
Ten elusive Jazz records  
Nine magic Carpets  
Eight new sounds  
Seven cappuccino stains  
Six close encounters  
Five reviling outfits  
(A) Four way crimp  
Three lethal knitting needles  
Two electro Goth girls  
And the funk in a creepy old box_

Reviews are muchly appreciated


	7. Disappointment

**Disapointment.**

I'm a disappointment. I've failed him. I can't be what he wants me to be.  
I'm not handsome, quafiered or stylish. I'm an awkward Jazzy freak who can't talk to anyone without sounding like an uncomfortable fool.  
I'm a disappointment. I'll never be able to go out, to parties, events or even just shopping without having a panic attack. I don't know what to do. I don't know how to respond. It should come easy, to everyone else it does but me. I just can't.  
Instead I'll always be the one at his side that he can't shake. The one that doesn't fit in. The one he makes excuses for because I'm not like him. Not like how I should be. No instead I'll always be something of an unwanted extra, always susceptible to comment, not reflecting on me but reflecting on him. People call me things but never to insult me but rather to insult him. I'm the Geography teacher from leads that doesn't have a clue. I'll never fit in. I'll never understand. I'll always be me. And I'll always be a disappointment.  
But somehow, through some feet not short of a miracle he still sticks with me. Still talks to me. Still thinks of me as a friend. Still loves me.  
It's the hours in the dark at night or the wet afternoons with no-one else where we sit and talk of nothing and everything. The hours when we are ourselves but forget who we are and just enjoy each other's company because we're all that matters. Ying and Yang, Chalk and Cheese. Vince and Howard. That's us. Two opposites that make one, no matter who or what we are we will always be to each other the balance in life that the other needs to make it who they are. Without him I would be nothing and without him I would be no-one. But he makes me someone. Even if it is the freakish Jazzy northerner who can't fit in, the one that, on paper would be a complete disappointment. But life isn't on paper, and that is what saves us. Saves us from the disappointment. We are what we are and we will always be.

Sometimes, in the darkest hours or the times when everything goes wrong or just when I'm on my own and thinking I realise what a disappointment I must be to him. How much he must hate the way I always tease him, taunt him. How it must feel every time I leave him for something much less precious.  
It's thoughts like this, of the disappointment I could and must be, that make me want to hide, or maybe run away. Perhaps end it. Thoughts like this are the ones that make me curl up in corners and cry silent sobbing tears of realisation because I do care Howard. I really do. I know I'm fickle and rude. I know I treat you like some kind of freak but I love you. I really do. And when you hurt I hurt. It might not seem like it but I promise you I do. Even if I push it away until times like this when I stop and when the hurt and the guilt threaten to overcome me. I know I must be a disappointment to you Howard, and it kills me to think it but I know I am.  
But always in times like this it's you Howard always comes and comforts my shaking frame. Helps me to remember and realise that I could never give up, never end it all. Because if it did that, that would be what would make me the real disappointment. To give up.

**YAY, DEPRESSING! :/ ;) Sorry. But really there was no other way. It's been too long my old friend angst. Too long. But, hopefully I bid you goodbye again for a while if I have satisfied you that this chapter was depressing enough?!**

**_Thanks for reading! Reviews make me smile! :)_**

**_xx_**


	8. Dark

**Warning: Second Part may be slightly disturbing for younger readers - that is, if I have any?!**

**Dark.**

"Howard?" A little voice once whispered from the depths of the night.  
"Howard? You awake?" The tiny gentle voice comes from the other side of the tent.

"Uh hu, I am now." Howard doesn't really mind though.  
"Sorry. I didn't mean to wake you. You can go back to sleep if you want." Such a sweet caring child, especially at times like this.  
"It ok. What did you want?"  
"Nothing."  
"Really?"  
"Umm… Can you pass me the rucksack?" Howard complies and Vince unzips it, removing something and zips it up. He doesn't hand it back again. The miniature electro child is quite and Howard wonders if he is asleep. He turns over and shuts his own eyes.

Outside the world doesn't sleep, inside it is silent but outside creatures pad and leaves rustle.

"Howard?" He voice, Howard notices, shakes slightly no matter how quite it is – which is very quite.

"Yes?" Nothing so Howard tries again.  
"Vince? What is it?"  
Vince starts as if he is going to say something, the stops. "Do you have a drink?"  
"I thought you had it?"  
"Oh yeah." He laughs a little staged laugh. But it is so small and week that it sounds almost hysterical. "Night Howard."  
"Night Vince."

Far in the distance something calls in the dark

"Howard!" The voice is definitely shaking and just a bit louder than before as well. Maybe, Howard thinks, Vince is cold.

"What's wrong now?" Howards patience is being to be tried.  
"Howard, Howard I'm scared." Vince admits sheepishly  
"How can you be scared Vince? Nature at night is brilliant, you've not only got the-" Howard begins to lecture Vince on the beauties of the world at night but when he sees Vince's pale face with massive blue eyes filled with worry just inches from his own he cuts himself off.  
"Howard I'm scared" Vince repeats. And through the grainy film of darkness Howard can see his blue orbs brim with water. Vince is on the verge of tears.  
"What of? The dark or the outside."  
"Yes." Howard guesses that means both. Just then an owl hoots  
"Howard!" Vince's cry is strangled and thick with fear and the effort to keep tears in, much like a choked sob and Howard thinks there is a danger of the child going into hysterics or something similar.  
"Come here little man." Howard pulls Vince carefully into the embrace of his arms and holds him there.  
"Howard, I want to go home. I don't like it here."  
"Shush little man. It'll be ok, as soon as it's light we can go." Howard can feel his pyjama top getting damp.  
"Nu uh." Vince shakes his head violently "Howard I want to go now. I don't like it."  
"Vince we can't go now, it's dark and we can't actually get anywhere. How would we get the tent down?"  
Vince's shaking frame lapses into silence  
"Vince, your ok. Your safe here with me. It'll be ok. You'll see, close your eyes and when you wake up all the dark and the noises will have gone. I'll protect you." Howard didn't know if he was overdoing it but Vince sniffed and nodded before snuggling down close to Howard, the both of them now in a single sleeping bag with Vince encased in Howard's arms.

True to form Vince did fall asleep and when the two finally awoke the sun was high in the sky and the previous nights rain blown away with the night creatures. But since then Howard has learnt a valuable lesson – Vince is afraid of the dark. And so, on nights like this, when Vince quietly creeps into Howard's bed, often with salty tracks on his cheeks, Howard doesn't ask questions, instead he simply wraps his arms around Vince and waits for the erratic breathing to fall slow and steady before falling back asleep himself.  
Oh, and he also learnt that Vince has a toy rabbit called Bono that goes everywhere, well almost everywhere, with him.

-b-r-e-a-k-

I lie, face to the room in a bed. I don't know where, who's or what im doing here.  
I shiver. The girls arm slides off my stomach as she turns over.  
She was pretty. Pretty good too. But that was hours ago now.  
Since I have stared out into the pitch black that fills the room. Imagining.  
I don't imagine monsters or spiders or murderers (well sometimes murderers). Not the normal stuff that makes people scared in the dark.  
I imagine myself. I finally stop dancing. My mind forms mutated copies, clones, holograms of myself. Myself wanting to hurt me. Hurt me for who I am. Guilt. It takes you over in the dark.  
I screw my eyes tight but the Vince won't vanish. Closed or open the clarity is still there.  
Sometimes they are just me, nothing changed. Sometimes they are what I could be. Sometimes they are just animals, odd contortioned beings but always I know it's me. Sometimes they are like this.  
His eyes drip blood, mouth, nose, fingers. Everywhere I look blood beings to fall, oozing out in trickles and flowing like rivers. It doesn't fall on the carpet. Just falls.  
My eyes are white and bloodshot. I have no pupils. Infact, the more I look, the more features I loose. Becoming a strange unparallel me with shiny, pail skin with no pigment in it but still the blood comes.  
And now, when I look, the features form, almost like they remember to be there. But when I look away they are gone.  
The me has a tool. An instrument. A weapon that can only be used for one purpose. The curved, gray silver blade, raised up to the shoulder not yet dripping with the blood the seeps from everywhere else. This is waiting for a different blood. This weapon can only be used for one purpose. For killing. For killing me. Now I am imagining murderers. I'm imagining myself.  
The blade is raised. I take a step forward and plunge it down deep into the vital organs. A new blood coats the blade.  
I scream a silent bloodcurdling scream as warm, bubbling sticky liquid fills my mouth, choking me on my own death.  
I die and all is left is the darkness that was before.

**Umm... yes, ok. That was odd. I swear I'm not mentaly disturbed or anything... :/**

_Thanks for reading. Please leave a review!? xx_


End file.
